Young Knees.

Slaughtering a million, and eating a few,
You pace these halls, doing whatever the fuck they tell you to.
Your demons have clashed with your weekend friends,
And I am afraid this time,
I can't hold anything against you.
Laugh at me for pleasure, look at yourself for pain,
Scratching a surface of well-hid terrain,
Caking your lungs with some disgusting led based paint.
Expensive habits have taken hold of your stomach.
We can't blame this on the past,
We have lost the hatchet we buried so many years ago.
What ever made me question my opinion of you,
I no longer know.
The red tape stretches all the way to a place I'll never see.
I'm not comfortable in my own skin,
I feel out of my element.
I believe you're ready to fight.
I believe you plan to make me bleed.
I take this as an opportunity to leave.